Love and Death
by Silly Little Sparrow
Summary: Set during the war. What to live for, when Love is dead?


Disclaimer: Harry Potter, regrettably, does not belong to me

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**I watched thee when the foe was at our side,**

**Ready to strike at him—or thee and me**

_The look in his eyes wasn't fear. It wasn't shock, of relief, or dismay. It wasn't even pain. No. What she saw in those gray orbs, was desperation, pure and pulsing desperation, as the blade ran clean through his chest. Hermione screamed._

_And then she felt the same cold metal, still weeping red, enter her body, just under her left breast, and she knew then, knew even as she searched out Draco's gaze, that her eyes were a mirror of his own_.

**Were safety hopeless—rather than divide**

**Aught with one loved save love and liberty**.

The air was a mask, and her body was the face. Or was it the other way around? Hermione couldn't tell. She found it didn't bother her very much. She uncurled her limbs, stood and stretched.

Now. Where was she?

She had been lying on sand, heated by the sun, and as she stood, turning in place, Hermione saw dunes all round. There was nothing--nothing--else that she could make out, no mountains in the distance, no pools or water. Not another creature in sight.

"I am Nowhere," Hermione said. Her voice sounded strange, hollow. As though it came from somewhere deep inside of her, an old place without a heart. She tried again: "Where am I?" The girl waited, body tense. No sound came off the pale milk dunes. "I am Lost," Hermione said. "That's where I am. But I'm Somewhere."

She began walking.

**I watched thee on the breakers, when the rock,**

**Received our prow, and all was storm and fear**

_I caught her gaze when they stabbed me. Or her gaze caught mine. Either way. I don't know what happened after that. I find--wretched as this may sound--I find that I am more interested in the past just now. So I'll go back the beginning. The Simple Time.  
_

_She caught my heart at Hogwarts. Or I caught hers. Truth to tell, I still am unable to understand it. There we were, just kids, really-- _

_(It was before the War--before my father--before I killed--before the Darkness set in)_

_--and foolish. I hated her, I did, and she felt the same. We were born enemies, H and I. Except one day we weren't, and I couldn't get enough of her smile and her bossiness and her clover mouth. And Hermione...well, I'm not sure. She said she loved me, and I believed her. But how could she love--_

_(a cruel mouth--a needle voice--a fractured mind--a stubborn Hate--a broken boy?)_

_--Draco Malfoy?_

_How does a dog forgive, when it doesn't understand betrayal? How does a clown weep when the smile is painted on? How did Hermione love me? I'll tell you: I don't know.  
_

_And then the War hurricaned out, and everything exploded around us. We'd stand on the Astronomy Tower sometimes, and watch the world fall. _

_One night, when I was still a student at Hogwarts, Hermione slipped into my room. I was studying at my desk--_

_(still studying? Trying to maintain some sense of reality)_

_--and felt her hand curl around mine. "We have to, Draco. You know we do."_

_I feigned ignorance, thinking she'd let it go. "We have to what, Hermione?"_

_She knew I hated to do this. That's why she trailed her fingers across my jaw, and smiled gently, tenderly. I was lost then; she was right. I said: "I know", and I did. _

_It was time to Decide_.

**And bade thee cling to me through every shock;**

**This arm would be thy bark, or breast thy bier**

I see her in the sand. She is outlined by the sun, and she walks straight through me. That's when I know for certain her eyes don't see me. I am trapped here, helplessly watching the girl I love die. Softly.

I am already dead, I think.

But Hermione--

(Oh, you Angel! What are you doing in this hellish realm?)

is not dead, not quite, at least. She still feels the burning sand neath her toes, the brown wind on her cheeks. What can _you_ feel, you ask? What of poor Draco? Well. I feel cold and dark and there's a hole in my chest where the blade--

(it didn't kill _her_ too, not Hermione, not my own Angel)

--ran me through. I'm Dead. Capital D. I stand upon Death and Death is all around.

Hermione once said to me, she said: "If this is your path, my love, then I shall save you." I thought she meant she would prevent me from joining the Death Eaters. Now I know different.

(_O you precious Angel! I'm going to save you_ _too_)

I am Orpheus, but this time I swear I'll bring you back safely.

**I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes,**

**Yielding my couch and stretched me on the ground**

_She slipped in and out. Time was a wheel; she wasn't even near it, on it, under it. Draco, where are you? The blood was coming out of her, so much--she couldn't have known a body contained it all. There were hands carrying her, pushing the blood back, and voices telling her to hang on. Why couldn't they see she just wanted to know how _he_ was? Stop, please stop, I have to go back!_

_But they never heard her cries._

_There was a body in the bed next to hers. It was male, and breathing--_

_Draco?_

_--but when she managed to raise herself onto her elbows and peer over at the sleeping form, a shock of brown curls and an unfamiliar pair of lips met her gasping gaze. It wasn't him. She sank back into unconsciousness.  
_

_Draco!_

**When overworn with watching, ne'er to rise**

**From thence if thou an early grave hadst found**

The sun is a dry-ash echo of what she knows. How strange! she thinks. The beauty of it has fled, but she feels the heat, far, far too much heat. Her skin is slippery with perspiration, and Hermione knows she needs water. But where to find water in Hell? Her eyes ache from straining, her feet are tired. She wants to go home.

But Hermione doesn't know how to get home, so she walks.

Am I dreaming? she wonders. Will I wake and find my life again, just as it was before--

(Before the War--before the Love--before the pain--before the pain--before the--)

--she came here?

I want to go home, Hermione says. But she doesn't know what the words mean.

**The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering wall,**

**and men and nature reeled as if with wine**

_So much of my life is concentrated into the time I spent with Hermione. Like my life was a single thread until I knew Love, and then it became a mass of rope and twine. _

_I am outside of my body...no. That's not quite right. My body is no longer outside _me_, no longer a shield and shelter. I can see myself now, my eyes wide and glassy, my broken limbs still warm, splayed against the dying earth. How could I never notice my own heat? Never notice the flow of my own blood? You miss it, you really do, when it stops._

_Hermione loved to trace the veins in my arm. I'd feel her feather fingers wonderingly, questioningly, tremble up my wrists, then, as though fearing I'd disappear--_

_(but you did. You left and never saw her til the--)_

_--and then she'd throw herself into my embrace. "You're so real," she would breathe, sounding, strangely, uncertain. I wasn't sure how to deal with this Hermione, this young, soul-shatteringly vulnerable creature who looked at me like--_

_(like firelight and snow, like the sound of a solitary oboe, the touch of pine trees, of a deep, unearthly ache)_

_--like she loved me._

_Her face was so still when I told her my Decision, that I wondered if she had heard. In that moment--_

_(that terrible instant when time gasped and hated Me)_

_--the world grew cold. And then: the ethereal tear; I caught it on my finger, pressed it to my lips. I tasted the intoxicating elixir, and reeled as one drunk.  
_

_Hermione! How I wronged thee!_

_But she nodded. "I know," she said. "You can't turn away from your family." And then, palely, she said: "In my time, I have loved. What greater thing could I ask for?" And then she pressed a kiss to my brow, which burned like fire, and left. She left, and she didn't look back._

_Hermione! _You_ were my family, you were, you were, you were!_

**Whom did I seek around the tottering hall?**

**For thee. Whose safety first provide for? Thine**.

Is it possible to die twice? I think not; I died once, and I never lived again. But Death, it seems, has other ideas just now. I grow more and more certain that I must not depart, not yet. My Angel is fading, you see, and her agony is doubly mine.

She treads on the ground. Her feet begin to blister, her lips begin to crack; why is she here? Why must she endure this torment?

A terrible hope springs to my mind, and takes root. Perhaps...perhaps she is the sacrifice. And I her savior. What if I could bring us both back? And we could live and love and love and love forever and not say a word.

A fool's hope, but a hope nonetheless.

Redemption.

A sweet poison, true; but it will destroy me all the same.

**And when convulsive throes denied my breath**

**the faintest utterance to my fading thought**

_She saw those who loved her. Their voices and arms and tears enveloped her, caressing her spine and cheek. If she smiled, they'd understand. What words to say? How do you speak when words are deaf? How do you die when life holds you captive?_

_Hermione is alive, but only just. Hermione is dead, but only just. _

_The arms and voice and eyes she searches for are not there. _

_It's me, sweet Draco, it's me and I love you, I love you. Where are you?_

_Where are you? I forgive you, Draco, for--_

_(for leaving me--for betraying me--and Hogwarts--and fighting against me--for loving and losing--)_

_--for dying.  
_

**To thee—to thee—e'en in the gasp of death**

**My spirit turned, oh! oftener than it ought**

She feels the pool of water before she sees it. It's there, just a few more steps away! Hermione doesn't hesitate; she staggers into the cool waters, feeling them wash away her sins and sorrows and pain. Her blisters disappear, her skin takes in the moisture and the peace and the healing. And then she sinks, and looks up and sees the dying light--

(it's alright--don't fight it--let the water claim you--claim the sleep and the dreams)

--and it fades as she falls deeper into the pool.

Her hands reach up, fingers caressing, tracing the veins of light. They disappear, and her lips form the words: "you're not real," and this time she is certain.

**Thus much and more; and yet thou lov'st me not,**

** And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will**

_I hear you, Hermione. I hear your words and your love. I know I'm gone now._

_I leave my body, and follow the--_

_(the snow and pines and the music)_

_--warmth I know so well. I feel your love pull me, inexorably, to you, a golden chain connecting us. _

_You're on the bed, my Angel, a marble shadow under the coverlets. Why so cold, my Angel? You're only sleeping._

_Don't you love me?_

**Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot**

**to strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still**

Can I reach you? No, no, you bad, bad Angel! You're too far under, just--

(come back with me and be my love forever and I'll bring us back, you'll lead us back--)

--take my hand! Take it, O precious Angel. I'm going to save you.

My hand finds your own, and I grip you harder than life, harder than death--

(he won't have you, Angel, not yet--not yet!)

--can grip. And I pull you and we sink lower for a terrible instant when time gasps and hates Me--

and then we rise, rise, rise.

"Don't let me go," my Angel cries. "Hold me up forever, I'm slipping, slipping..."

I trace your cheek and your spine and your love.

_Where am I? she asks. Am I Nowhere? _

_No, I say. You're with me._

_And she's crying, my Angel, for she knows I speak truly. Will you leave me again, Draco? she says._

_I shake my head slowly. No, I say. No. But the tears are coming and I can't hold them back. My Angel, you--_

_you must leave _me_. You have to let me go, sever the chain, my love. You have to live. You have to live._

_No, she says. No._

_Do it, I tell her, do it for me. Because you're not the sacrifice, Hermione; I am. I'm the sacrifice, and you're my savior. _

_So live._

_Her gaze catches mine. Or my gaze catches hers. I see the snow in her mind and smell the pine trees and hear the oboe. The deep, unearthly ache is in my soul, and when I catch a tear on my finger, I press it to my lips. _

_We kiss, H and I, one last time. We love again, one last time._

_And then she turns, keeping her eyes locked on mine until the last possible moment. Then she leads the way to the exit of the Underworld. She doesn't look back. If she does, she'll be lost._

_I can feel her mind seeking, searching out my own, finally finding the golden link. Are you there? she says._

_I'm here, Hermione, my love, my own darling, I'm here. And I love you forever._

_She smiles with those clover lips. I've brought her back safely, like I vowed I would. The golden link cracks; she lets me go.  
_

_Hermione walks through the archway into the World, and she doesn't look back._

_

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_Thanks for reading. Leave a review, tell me what you thought.

The lines of poetry are from Lord Byron's 'Love and Death'.


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